Mara paused before his sharp words, embarrassed by the obvious insight, "He doesn't need your protection." she maintained, unwilling to back down.
"Then whose does he have, Commander- yours?" Hallin countered dismissively, and Mara was surprised at the fire she saw in his eyes; it wasn't something she associated with the diminutive, easy-going medic.
"Does that seem so unlikely to you?" she asked; a momentary slip.
"Actually no." Hallin said, that perfectly-modulated voice as self-possessed as ever. "I'd like to think we're arguing the same point here, Commander. I don't wish to see him hurt- I assume you are searching to clarify the same. So if it helps, I can assure you that I am sincere in my commitment. I'd like so say I hold the same confidence in you... but the truth is that I can't, can I? And I'm not alone in recognizing your conflict of interest."
With that final sting, he set off down the corridor, leaving Mara to watch him go, surprised at the honesty in his words. She glanced down, the slightest of smiles touching the corners of her lips, amused in the way that a timber bear might be when cautioned by a pup's yap; it was kind of nice to think that Skywalker had someone watching his back, even if it was only Hallin.
She pushed off from the wall, shaking her head in amusement; still, she shouldn't get complacent. Some pups grew up to be house dogs... and others grew up to be wolves.
.
.
.
"Autonomy is earned." The Emperor remained casually seated on the heavy, carved chair without looking round to his charge, who paced before the bank of tall, slim windows in the audience chamber of his Cabinet like an animal caged, eyes roving the cityscape beyond, always on that dark horizon.
"When?" The boy had asked permission to leave Court and been refused again. He desperately wanted to return to his ship, to the fleet, and Palpatine's refusal had instigated this discussion again, another replaying of an old argument. Not that Palpatine minded; it was never quite the same, the boy always managing to bring some new twist to it, especially when he was as frustrated and as discontented as he was now.
Darkness suited him; he wore it like a second skin. Just like the bespoke, hand-tailored clothes he wore, what had once seemed so obviously uncomfortable and unfamiliar had become second nature. It never failed to mesmerize; to push Palpatine to keep his work of art here for his personal appreciation just one more day. Though to say such out loud would be breaking the unspoken rules of this particular game.
"When I trust you." he said instead.
"Trust!" the word came out in a disbelieving, derisive laugh, "You'll never trust. Try another tactic, Master- that will never work."
Palpatine set his head on one side, unoffended, "Tell me, Jedi- what do you want?"
"Freedom." Luke said simply.
The Emperor only smiled, "Freedom is an illusion."
"Then give me the illusion." Luke replied doggedly.
Palpatine shook his head tolerantly, tone laced with patronising familiarity which grated against Luke's terse irritability. "You would always look for the bars, child; always seek to test them. It is in your nature."
"Why do you always speak in riddles?" Luke challenged, hearing the frustration in his own voice.
"Because you do not want to hear the truth."
"Because I don't believe that you speak it." Luke said, turning to face his Master, pulled back in to the battle for one more round, frustrated as much at himself for allowing it as at his Master for instigating it.
Palpatine only smiled, enjoying the game. He had in truth no reason to keep the boy here and they both knew it; all the official functions were done, the long list of formal procedures and protocols which accompanied the Emperor's announcement of his heir observed and concluded yet still Palpatine kept him here- in truth for no other reason than that he enjoyed the boy's company, reluctant as it was. And Skywalker knew it too- it unsettled him; offended him, as all Court life did- the distanced, indifferent façade he maintained transparent before the Force.
The Emperor grinned, thin lips pulled back from stained teeth at his fallen Jedi's frustration, , "Black and white exist only for the pawns in board games. The Force will not be bound by such absolutes- life will not be bound. The truth will not be bound... and neither should you."
"There is right and wrong." Luke held firm.
"Yes... but they are not the constants you try so hard to cling to and I think you know that now. And yet still you hobble yourself- try to judge your actions according to the simple allegories of children's tales. The universe is far too complex to be bound by yes and no, right and wrong, light and darkness. They are only words."
"They're not words, they're ideas." Luke refuted, "Ideals."
"Ideals which destroyed the Jedi because they tried to hold to a principle which was not viable- one which was fundamentally flawed in its naïve rigidity. The Jedi themselves were great advocates of the value of history - that we should learn by the mistakes of the past - yet they failed so completely to do so themselves."
"They gave their lives defending something they believed in." Luke said, adamant.
Palpatine set his head to one side, allowing the defiance in order not to alienate the boy before he had made his point, "You would be surprised how many doubted. How many questioned the decisions of the Council. But they were locked into a course by their own inability to adapt when it became clear how flawed their tenets were. Those few who understood - who tried to amend their actions accordingly - the Jedi hunted them down. Persecuted their own kind for nothing more impertinent than asking' Why?'. How is that a crime?"
Luke glanced to the Emperor, pale eyes searching, "And that's the truth?"
The slightest smile traced Palpatine's thin lips- how wonderful that the boy would ask that of him; that he even asked it inferred that he was willing to accept the answer Palpatine gave... and there was the victory.
"That is the truth." Palpatine stated without doubt.
Luke tilted his head just slightly, "But there is no 'truth'- isn't that what you just said, Master? Everything is relative. Everything you tell me is simply a point of view."
They remained still for long seconds, steadfast blue eyes locked onto calculating yellow ochre- then Palpatine threw back his head and let out a grating laugh, amused and indulgent.
"You play this game too well, child," he allowed at last, "And here I thought you did not listen."
Luke glanced away, uncomfortable; he listened. He listened to refute, but he still listened. Somehow Palpatine had always held that influence over him. That was the problem- because sometimes, the arguments wouldn't come, and then... then just occasionally, something slipped past all Luke's denials and his contentions and it lodged in his thoughts and stuck fast. Did that mean... Force help him, did that mean he listened to the old man? Were acceptance and the inability to summon yet another coherent argument the same thing?
And was it all a waste of breath now anyway, all these endless arguments and petty semantics? Did his refusal to accept the fact that he had already fallen make it any less true? Or was it simply self-delusion- the worst of all possible lies.
The dour stillness of the grand, cavernous room crushed in on him, overwhelming. He hated this place; the vast, excessive extravagance of endless maze-like halls and countless sprawling enfilades sterile and soulless, isolating and restricting despite their imposing majesty. He hated this place- Palace, prison- call it what you would, the name meant nothing. He knew what it had done to him- what had been taken from him inside these towering walls. What had been stolen, ripped away like flesh from bone... and what had been lost, slipping through his fingers like dry desert sand.